Goodbye My Love
by Aegyobunbun
Summary: "You will think of me at least once That's all I need, until the day we meet again I'll wait, it's only a momentary goodbye Good bye my love." - Ailee What if thing's were not what they seemed? That in one moment everything you held dear would be there, the next. It would all be gone. Would you have the courage to say goodbye, or would you forever cling to that someone.
1. Prologue

Most people would say that the after life is a time of peace, of rest and looking back on what you had. However he, never even got to see what all he could do. The blonde's bright blue eyes glanced over the side of the bridge, looking down onto the people. Everything he left once that car came crashing into his.

The blood over taking his vision. Not even a minute and the snap of his neck was heard. World going black, heart stopping forever. The boy's name, as it had been in his previous life, was Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. A bright eyed student, loving boyfriend. Everything that a man should be, at least to most.

Upon further inspection of this well, there came another set of eyes. One's which seemed to mimic the same sadness in Alfred's. The eyes of his lover, whom was still grieving even after his passing. Tears streaming down his cheeks at the thought of loosing him so young, so full of life. They had so much planned. Since the day he passed was to be their wedding. Two souls joining in harmony. A day full of tears of joy, not tears of sorrow.

The voice behind him seeming to call, urging him on forward. After all, he wasn't home just yet. Or at least, that's what the whispering voices called it. Home. Nothing more, nothing less. Where he would spend all eternity, until he and his love could be together. A fear holding him back from making that choice. Should he stay or should he go?

There was still however, something holding him back. Keeping him from finding happiness that would lay across the 'waters' so to speak. "I should go.." Said Alfred aloud, still looking down at Arthur. Trying not to tear up at the thought of leaving him. "Mom and dad are there, family but... I" There was a pause between his words, he taking his glasses off his eyes to wipe away the salty tears. "I can't leave him..."

Truth be told, the right path might not always be the easiest. And it was up for him to make his choice. Should he stay, or should he go? There, upon that ricked old wooden bridge. He made his choice. Arthur meant far too much to him in life. So he wouldn't loose him away, no. Not even in death. Taking one final look around, he bid the in between world goodbye. Leaving for the Earth plane. Home to a still grieving Arthur.

The couple's flat lay in London. Of course this had been against Alfred's wishes, but where ever his love went. So did he. And it was a great starting point. More like would have been great. They had bought it not long before the wedding. Dreams of raising a family there being shattered in a moment's notice.

The black suit did nothing to hide the feelings of hurt. Pain almost unbearable for him. The sheet's of their bed stained with his tears. Sad music playing in the background, thing's Alfred used to love before... All of it bringing back the painful realization, his love wouldn't be coming home. Not now, not ever again. A part of himself blamed God, another himself. Unsure what was right of wrong anymore. Everything seeming to blend together.

_However this was only the beginning. As it seem's not everything, stay's dead._

* * *

Hello there! It's me the author of this fine story! So it's good to be back. I've got a few things to do, so I'll try to keep this updated. Though I can't make any promises. Anyways, here's a link to go with it. (Here) is where the song I got inspired. The photo is made by lilflow and Hetalia is created by Hideka Himaruya. So thank you for reading and enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1: Wedding Sorrows

Chapter One: Wedding Sorrows

Upon the bright and beautiful British country side, lay a small meadow. With its green grass, and beautiful flowers, nature seeming to work in harmony with the scenery. Arthur remembered this place, having grown up near there. It was the first place he had taken the American too when they started dating, planning on being married in that same spot. Overlooking the billowing grasslands.

The man could not be bothered to say no to his beloved, and plans were made for that. However, mother nature had her own idea's. Rain pouring down from morning to night up until the wedding, Arthur's dream of having something simple and meaningful crushed.

But that was to be expected, and he in turn learned from this. Alfred wiping away any tears which fell from his green eyes that morning. Yes, their wedding

morning. Both elegantly dressed in their very best. The white cream of Arthur's suit, hair still in it's slightly messy state. bright eyes seeming to smile along with him up at the boy. Leaning in for a kiss. All these actions only making Alfred's hear beat faster.

Though, he always could do that to him. Whether the British man knew it or not. "Come on love, at least kiss me." He hummed, wrapping much smaller arms around Alfred's neck. Trying his hardest to kiss him although it proved unsuccessful. The smell of honey tea and lip balm was nothing that could be hid. Alfred knew that all too well. He could never deny the other any types of affection, be if he had been planning on it or not.

With his own little hum, the blue eyed man did something unexpected. Gently picking up the frail man, swinging him around slightly in the small space. Doing his best to not knock anything over in the process. Leaving poor Arthur a bit flustered at the actions. Until a sweet kiss was placed on his slightly pouting lips.

The words mumbling from that of a grouchy child rather than an adult. "Git." However, this gave way once those blue eyes met his. Melting the British man into a puddle of love and intention.

"Oh come on Artie, you know I love you." Said Alfred himself, chuckling slightly as the other continued to play his little games. Both men knew each other all too well. This being nothing out of the usual for either. Actions of both wanting to snuggle him until they could no longer move intertwining with those of wanting to slap the tanned color off of Alfred's face for being childish.

There was a soft hum from the British man, he rolling his eyes at the others words. Crossing his pale arms and turning away. "I love you too git, but don't do that again!" His voice was stern, but still held all of the love the other's did. In no way was this surprising to Alfred. Not in the least bit.

As long as the American had know him, the green eyed charmer had a taste for the dramatic. Even when talking there was presence about him, which only foretold of the wonders that were his Arthur. How else could he describe it?

"Alright, Artie. A hero's promise." Replied the boy, gently placing his arms around the smaller mans waist. Fingers sliding up under his pressed shirt, ticking his sides. A humming noise leaving his lips almost instantly. "And I love you too..." His tone changed within that sentence. Going from something of confidence, strength. To a more dainty tone. Loving, and above all truthful.

Pink lips came forward once more, gently brushing over the others ear. Whispering the words of his love for the man. "Forever and always." Alfred said in a hushed tone, closing his eyes if only for a moment. Inhaling the scent of his lover like it was some sort of drug. In way though, Arthur was his drug.

A drug with no health threats, no possible problems with use. Ah, it was amazing to think something of this love even existed upon the Earth in his mind. As the grandfather clock in the small corridors struck two o'clock pm, it was then that they remembered. The wedding should be occurring soon. Arthur having to arrive much earlier in order to finish any last minute plans with the servants.

"Love, I have to go.." Spoke a voice so sweet to his ears, even the heavens above should be jealous of something. "Alfred, dear?" He called again, breaking the man's trance. Blue eyes having closed all the way, mind wondering into space before being brought down to his beloved. "Ah yeah. Sorry." Replied the American in an embarrassed voice. Face flushed with the color of a cherry.

He was always horrible of hiding his emotions, with or without added pressure. Some may have called it foolish behavior for a man of his age. Arthur called it precious. At last out of his loves strong arms, the blonde kissed him one more on the cheek. Only deepening the ever growing flush. "I'll meet you at the reception hall, love." Spoke he in a soft tone, gentle fingers moving over the warm cheeks. "Don't be be late."

Alfred nodded to these words, quickly moving to grab the others coat from out of the closet. Along with the rather dark umbrella. Such a strong down pour for a wedding day. But never the less could he care. It was their day. A day of remembering all the times they had spent wondering, would this even be possible. Now, that possibility was a reality. A reality bonded by love and happiness in both parties.

"Ha! Wouldn't miss my own wedding for the world!" These words, would they have rang true if the accident hadn't occurred? No, he wouldn't have abandoned Arthur just for the simple act of getting cold feet on their wedding day. The British man was worth much more than that. As the other left the warm home and entered into the cold dark world of England, Alfred stayed in the house. Quickly cleaning himself up, and fixing whatever need be done around the small space.

A few items would be needed, a sort of good luck charm from where he originated in. "Something old, something knew.." Repeated the blonde to himself, before picking up said items. Running his fingers over them within his hands. The rings, originally his grandparents wedding rings. Refitted to uphold this special occasion. A combination of something both old and new. More words left his lips, realizing that his search wasn't over just yet. "Something borrowed.. something blue."

Whatever could he possible use for this? More for the something borrowed then the something blue. After all, the flowers which were pinned to his neatly ironed suit were already a very dark shade of navy blue. That's when it hit him like nothing before. The pin which held his flowers into place, originally borrowed from his dear friend Kiku!

How could he have forgotten something so simple and he missed it rather quickly. "Hehe, well think that wraps her up!" The man said aloud to himself. Voice echoing slightly throughout their humble abode. Giving one final look around with a soft smile, before grasping on his jacket and heading out into the storms of the outside.

The wind pushed and pulled against the red vehicle. Like a ship being tossed against the waves. Surely he could make it, but it would be slow goings. As the car pulled away from the drive, Alfred kept his eyes upon the road. Mind every so often slipping off a bit. Wondering into happier places besides the ones which lay just outside of his door.

Ones with both he and Arthur happily running through the meadows. A child in their grasps, giggling at the eager actions of its fathers. Surely that would be something to look forward to! Thoughts of raising many children once they were settled in. Of growing old together in such a marvelous house.

**Oh how those would be so sweet...**

The loudness of a horn honking loudly, tires screeching. Everything around him was spinning out of control. Blackness outside doing everything to hide what lay ahead. Kayos echoing in the back of his mind.

That's when the pain hit. The sounds of crunching metal and bone came to his ears. Of someone's spine seeming to rip in to two halves. Tears welling up in his blue eyes, the blonde looked over to the rings. Arthur's picture laying atop the box, smiling back at him with such praise.

Never again would he see his Arthur like that, if he did die or not. But he could feel himself slipping from this world. So quickly it frightened him. "I love you Arthur Kirkland.." Whispered Alfred in a pained voice, lips so dry and chapped.

_**"Forever and always."**_

Those were his final words. The words of a lover lost in a sea of undesirable conditions, with a once bright future. All of it taken away in a single swoop. Blue eyes closing forever, the cold blackness of death doing nothing to soothe his mind.

Yes, cold darkness was the best description. A pit of uncertainty, and silence. Heart breaking silence.


	3. Chapter 2: The Bridge

**Chapter 2: The Bridge**

Was heaven like he remembered from the movies? If that was even possible for someone like him, having been terrorized in life by those who opposed his relationship with his beloved Arthur. Would there be a place for him in the wide open spaces of that glorious place. Or at least, somewhere for him to wait. Waiting until the final breath of his love reunited them once more for all eternity.

No, there was nothing like that here. It was a blank space, almost like a painters canvas. Devoid of any life other than the billowing wind, clouds moving overhead. Seeming to have minds of their very own.

In the distance, he could have sworn to have seen a bridge. The feeling of calmness overtook his soul. This feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life. His once tattered clothing were healed over, the stitches neatly fastened back. Almost as if that accident had never even occurred.

The meow extended for miles all around him, Alfred unable to see anything other than green grass and beautiful golden rods. All blooming the brightest of colors, the air around him smelling of their sweet perfumes. However, something was missing from this view. Then it must not be heaven? "What is this place then..." Thought the blonde man out loud. Lips slightly parted, taking in the sweetly smelling air. Though he couldn't understand why he would do so, it wasn't like he needed it.

A voice accompanied his, speaking in a tone which was unusual for him. It was snappy, a bit overly confident, not that he couldn't be that way at times himself. "Hey broha, you must be the knew arrival." Called the voice in a thick german accent, leaving the poor blonde slightly confused. It seemed to come from nowhere in particular. Leaving the blue eyed man to spin around and around, like a small puppy chasing its tail.

"What? Dude? Where are you?" He replied to the voice in a bit louder tone, having to stop his actions due to the impending dizziness. Falling to the ground for only a milo second. Eyes at last returning from the soft texture of the grass, to find a man standing before him. Whom as he could tell, looked to be about his age. Grey hair slightly covering the oddly colored eyes. His aura giving off the perception of something out of an animated cartoon rather than an actual human being, or used to be human being.

The blue eyes gazing up at him, were not that of a grown adult. More that of a child hearted adolescent. One whom had died young, much too young. With too much to be living for. Even though on the outside he held the shell of that of a grown man. "Alfred F. Jones I'm guessing. Ha! We've been waiting for you. Come on, have some beer!" Motioning for the younger man to follow, he headed off slowly. Almost knowing, waiting for Alfred told hold regret. Or even fear of moving on to whatever lay ahead.

"But, I can't go.." Replied the American, tone thickening with sadness. "Artie's down there, I mean. I can't leave him. An I thought, that the big man didn't like people who..." Tension, something that goes unseen by many in everyday life. Yet it can break down or even build walls with little to no warning. As seen in this case.

_**He couldn't leave him. Be it in his best interest to or not. **_

The boots of the other stopped, a bright light now appearing before him. Slightly blocking out whatever lay behind the shield. Good or bad, the feelings of warmth and hope coming from it should bring any person to their feet. Inviting for them to cross it's boundaries, for at least a meager peek. " I understand what you must be thinking." Said the other again, at last turning around to meet Alfred's gaze. Sympathy in his cranberry colored eyes.

"But, sometimes the best thing to do is to move on. Trust me, it took me awhile too." Confidence seemed to dwindle the longer the man spoke, a couple of tears perking at the corners of his eyes. "The cancer, oh she's a schlampe alright."

He was, so young to die of something so horrible. Even compared to Alfred's form of demise. Interest is what poked him to continue listening, the German speaker seeing this within his expression. "Look, I'm sorry that happened to you dude..." There was a pause between the words, almost as if the American had been asking for his name. Since the red eyed man already knew his.

A hearty chuckle rose within the scratchy voice of the man, he wiping the tears away from his eyes. "The name was Gilbert Beilschmidt mein Freund." Replied he, eyes meeting Alfred's for the longest period of time.

Minds began slipping away from what had been an intense situation. Alfred's feet seeming to have a mind of their own, walking him toward that old rickety bridge he passed upon entering this other realm. A knowledge now entering into the pits of his soul, this place. I wasn't heaven. It was the holding ground, for all spirits whom weren't ready just yet. The place for choosing sides as to stay and wonder the earth plane for all eternity, or move on and wait for their loved ones.

That water below the wooden planks, it held an image he never thought he would see in a million years. Was it some sort of mirror into the life he once had? Upon the non moving surface was his beloved Arthur, the canopy of their wedding in the background. A police man standing before them.

Over and over the video of sorts played. The British man falling over onto his knee's crying into the palms of his hands. Acknowledging he had truly lost everything. Not all the riches in the world could buy happiness for this man. Only the return of his true love.

_**Alfred knew this..**_

For once in his rather short life, the energetic man was brought to silence. Tears slipping down his face like the heaviest of rain storms. His heart seeming to pound with pain in his chest, though in reality it could not. For he was dead, leaving Arthur alone for the first time in their relationship.

_**Arthur was alone. **_

A steady hand found its way to his shoulder, jolting the man from his breaking point. Alfred questioning why this had to happen, if everything was fine? "You really do love him, don't you broha?" Asked Gilbert with a soften gaze, almost staring into his very soul. Searching for any sign of doubt. Pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, Alfred nodded to the man. He could not say he didn't, for he did love Arthur. Whether others wanted him to or not. "Yes, I do dude. We promised to never leave, an... I broke that promise."

Sympathy, was that what all these actions were for? Maybe even a hint of sorrow for the man whom had lost the one thing which mattered most to him. The opportunity to be with his loved one. A sad tale if there ever was one. Gilbert signed softly, knowing that later he more than likely would get a rather hard kick in the ass for telling so. But in times like these, a little rule breaking would do him some good.

"What if I say, you can go back to him. However, there may be a price to pay later Freund. Does your friend believe in ghosts?" Eyes began knitting together at the others words. Although he was ecstatic that he could return home, and at least say a final goodbye to his beloved one. Alfred was sure, there was a problem with this idea running smoothly.

"Um, not really. Why are you asking dude?" Said the American in a rather confused tone. The Prussian's chuckle afterwards only making things even more confusing. "Oh nothing, but be warned. He wont be able to see you, until he believes."

Really, was that all Alfred had to do? Get Arthur to admit that he had been right all those years, an that ghosts really did exist. It shouldn't have been much of a problem. With a small huff of his voice an the roll of his blue eyes, Alfred nodded.

"Don't worry dude! I got him to eat an entire quarter pounder with cheese once without throwing up. I'm pretty sure this'll be a piece of cake!" There was the tone that he had been known for in life. The confident Alfred F. Jones. Who could persuade anyone that aliens existed, or that he truly was the hero. With a final wave of his hand, Alfred bid the other goodbye. Heading on across the bridge, back to where he originally came from.

Back to the earth plane. In the distance, his voice rang out. With a rather loud, and slightly obnoxious tone. "Thanks bro!"

Another bolt of light hit him in the eyes, so bright he felt blinded once again. The complete opposite of the darkness he had felt leaving this world.

_**He was now, on the Earth plane. **_


	4. Chapter 3: Earth Plane Bound

**Chapter 3: Earth Plane Bound **

As the light of his travels slowly evaporated into nothing more then a subtle ray of sunshine, Alfred was at last able to see where he was. He was there again. The busy people swarmed him like that of a bee hive. Each person going about their business, as if they had no knowledge of his presence at all.

Alfred to make his way around the crowds without hitting them directly, fearing for what might happen if he did so. However, it was inevitable. A man, with shoulder length blonde hair and bright blue eyes, walked right through his chest. He seemed unaware of his being, his ghostly form. It was odd being ignored for once, that he wasn't the center of attention.

It seems the old saying, that what you do in your life wont matter once your gone.  
That saying... was actually true.

While this young soul tried his hardest to find his loves residence in the strange world, the one whom walked through him was having his own difficulties. Over the phone he was doing his hardest to comfort the one he loved, or had in another time. Francis Bonnefoy, popular French teacher a local collage, old friend of Arthur Kirkland.

The blonde could hear the crying from a mile away, the British man unable to anything more that this point. There were no tears anymore, only the feeling of his broken heart beating to a soft tune of sniffling. Although Francis's feelings toward the blonde had not changed in the past years, he still knew Arthur was not his. Not until the short man was able to move, forget his love and what they once had. Until that day were to ring true, he would be there for him.

A bright yellow taxi dropped him off at the humble abode. The entire flat seeming to have a gloom over it, a misty cloud of gloom and despair. Something that had been there since Alfred's demise. Francis highly doubted it would remove itself anytime soon. How soon however, would depend all upon Arthur's mood.

As he made his way to the front interest, heavy hearted none the less. Francis tried to think of what he was going to say to the poor man. He had tried numerous other tactics to get him to calm himself, to stop the tears if even for a minute. To see him smile like he always did, before and after he met Alfred.

The knock on the door was the only thing standing between a sorrowed Arthur and his place on the already soaked pillow. Drenched in his own tears and Alfred's old pajama's, the man shifted in the king sized bed. Looking up upon the second knock hitting the door. "Go away you blasted git!" He cried, even though he understood that the frog couldn't hear him. Sad eyes lingered for a moment at the picture at the bed side, taking in the smiling image of his lover. Alfred wouldn't have wanted him to treat the man this way, even if they never got along well.

Sighing, his conscience compelled him to get up. Wiping his eyes with the sleeves of the shirt and heading toward the ever growing sound of knocking. Opening the door with a saddened and disgruntled look, a red eyed Brit stared back at him. "What is it now frog? Another one of your 'therapy' sessions?"

It seems the sarcasm in his voice cut the young Frenchman like a butter knife, having grown used to this sort of thing over the past days. "Hello mon ami." Said the man, before bowing gently. Moving past Arthur and entering the home, as rain had began to pour down like cold tears on the face of the earth.

Arthur said nothing of this, seeing as how it had been occurring for more then a week straight. "I can see things are still, how do you say, hitting you hard." Once the other began to speak, the young shook his head. Leaning against the wooden door and sighing softly. Why would he even bother to ask that? Hitting him hard was barely even scratching the surface of how he felt.

The British man had been devastated by the loss, it seemed as if some days he wouldn't have minded if he too had been taken away in that crash. At least then he could continue on loving Alfred, be it wherever people go when they die.

"Is that all you can come up with?" Spoke the blonde in a bitter tone, blood shot eyes looking up at him with a heart broken expression. "Hitting me hard? I fucking lost my husband Francis! That doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling!" Inner rage which had been pent up within him was released. Arthur throwing himself at the other. Punching at the Frenchman's toned chest. Cries of the pain that had been burning deep within him. That had been eating him alive.

For what seemed like hours to the Brit, was only mere minutes. At last tired from his attempts to beat the living words out of Francis, he had them. The description of what he was feeling at that very moment in time. "Regret..." The bitter word rolled off his lips like poison, straining the air around them. As if it wasn't already though enough. " That's what I'm feeling frog. An I don't think you'd ever understand that."

The look in Francis's eyes was nothing more then painful, pain only someone who had been in love would understand. Just as Arthur had been feeling, however in a different way. Stopping the man in his tracks, he placed tender hands onto his shoulders. Using a free hand to wipe away any free falling tears. Soft blue eyes looked into those green orbs he had come to love. An with a soft sigh, he had last spoke his mind.

"Arthur... I would understand that." Started off the man, voice refusing to shake in front of someone who had already been through so much. The man merely shrugged him off. Looking up with confusion, oh so much confusion on his part. Possibly even a hint of hurt, as to how in the world Francis could understand that!

Pushing away the hand from his shoulder, he backed away from the French speaking man. Shaking his head from side to side. "You... all your life you've had things handed to you frog. One girl after another, its no wonder they call you a flirt. How could you regret that? It was your own damn choice!" Arthur paused again, giving himself a breath. Growling under his voice.

_"Get out." He spoke in a gruff tone._

_"Get out of my bloody house!"_

In that moment, the tension was broke. It obvious what needed to be done. Although Francis had done nothing wrong to this poor man, silence would be the best cure for now. Holding back the tears building from behind those eyelashes, he nodded. Letting out one last shaky sigh before returning to the door. The wooden door was opened with a gentle touch, the collage professor bringing one last goodbye to his dear friend and secret love.

An icy chill raced down his spine just as he was about to say his bidding words. Hairs upon those muscular arms raising from the drop in temperature. Unknown to him a certain American had just entered the home, walking through both the door and the French man who lay just on the other side. Bright blue eyes looked back and forth between the Englishman and the other, unsure of what was occurring. But by the look on Arthur's face it was clear, something had occurred.

Anger raged within the man's ghostly being, causing him to over boil. Hands went to choke out Francis, hoping in some way he could retaliate for making his Arthur cry. The air was still the entire time he did so, both living men unaware of him even being there. However, in that short amount of time Alfred did have his hands around Francis throat. Nothing was said between either.

Hot tears gently falling down the Brit's face once more, he watched his 'friend' if that could even describe his feelings toward the frog. Those precious minutes slipping by as the clock on the wall struck five o'clock.

Francis was the first to make the move. Ignoring Alfred's icy grip and walking straight out the door. Humbly mumbling a soft goodbye, an walking off down the way.

_"Au revoir mon amour.."_

His attempt at strangling failed the blonde turned his attention to Arthur. Eyes having a slight red tint to them from crying, hands shaking as he feel to his knee's once more. Returning to this sorrowful state of a man. One who had at one point, been the strongest person Alfred had ever met in his life.

By will the blonde seemed to be drawn back over to him, kneeling before Arthur. All he wanted to do was take those shaking hands in his, to kiss away those tears which blocked his view. To remind his love what being whole felt like. Each time he did so, it was met with the same feeling. Nothing, only a slightly cold breeze within his finger tips.

Now vanishing tears where also falling from Alfred's eyes, eyelashes fluttering to stay open.  
"Please Artie... notice me." Softly whispered the man. "Please.."

With one last cold touch to his loves hand, there was a slight amount of hope Arthur might once again know he was there. Head lifting and looking about the room. A feeling having come over him from the loving gesture. An although he couldn't see what was causing him to all of a sudden feel this way, deep down he felt he knew what it could be.

**_"A-Alfred?"_**

* * *

Greetings sweeties, it's me the writer again. xD Then again who else would it be. Anyway I am terribly sorry for not posting a new chapter here in many months, I don't really have an excuse as to this. All I can say though is that I haven't really been inspired in that time to actually write. However, now that school is out and I am mostly bored out of my mind. That will probably change. So expect more from this story! An please comment, I want to hear what you all think!


	5. Chapter 4: Is Seeing Believing?

**Chapter 4: Is Seeing Believing?**

Those words which slipped past his parted lips, were they even the truth? Had Alfred's ears merely played tricks on his young mind. Or had Arthur somehow found out about him even being there? How odd. Wiping away the pale tears from his ghostly face the blonde man looked directly into those eyes once more. Hoping to see some truth within them.

However, he was met with the cold facts. An a less that hopeful Arthur's reply. "Bloody hell... why would I say that?" Stated the British man aloud to whom he thought was no one. "He's dead Arthur old boy, its just your imagination."

_Or was this twist of events a warning to him?_

Alfred knew the truth, and so did Arthur. Even if he refused to admit it at this moment. The young man was helpless to watch as his love got up from the cold floor. Brushing off the incident like it had never happened, and returning to his bed for the night.

"But... Artie. You, you felt it." Whispered the man in a small voice, although it was obviously stated Arthur could not hear him either way. "Just, believe I'm here..." Now alone Alfred was left to float about the flat, stopping every so often to admire what once was theirs. Pictures of himself still hang upon the cream walls, both of their faces smiling back at him.

How long had it been since he smiled? Not since his death date, which was the cause it seems of this long ever lasting sorrow. It wasn't himself he was pitying, but Arthur. As he promised never to leave him, that promise meaning nothing to the cruel world.

When the soft, somber tears of his love began again. Weeping being heard through the thing wooden door, that was when Alfred returned to his side. Laying down, or floating more or less, on the soft sheets. Nose gently touching the back of Arthur's neck, sending small chills down his spine.  
He paid no mind to this, and cried himself off to sleep again. Like any other day he had to live without Alfred by his side. With each breath in and out, the young man would watch patiently.

Almost intrigued by the small motions. Things he would never again get to do. Fingers brushing over the sleeping mans blonde locks. Feeling the soft hair slip between his fingers. Yet, through all of these things, he did not stir from his slumber.

It was almost midnight before the fatigue hit the younger man. Gently yawning and rubbing his eyes with his hands. Ghosts as Alfred had found , although no longer walked amid the living, still needed sleep accordingly to power their ectoplasmic existence. With one last yawn, the young man soon became tried from his day of travel to continue watching. Deciding to curl right up next to Arthur, and take a short recharge for his energy.

Early morning came as a surprise to the both of them, Alfred being the first to stir from his sleepy state. Gently rising up from the blankets and rubbing his eyes. The bright lights of the sun he one knew refusing to hit his face, being hidden by the dark chocolate brow draperies Arthur had ever happened to the man he used to know? The one who enjoyed the morning sun, the feeling of its gentle glow casting a shadow over the room, of singing a soft tune as he made his morning tea. Where had that Arthur gone?

His passing had caused much more of a change in the man then Alfred once thought. Cold feet drifted softly over the floor, the blonde trying to think in his mind whether ghosts needed to eat or not. Surely they did after all, how else were they to keep their strength up?

Floating his way down the seemingly cold hall way, the young ghost found the kitchen. Choosing to dig through the refrigerator like always, and began trying to find something to curve this nagging hunger in the back of his mind. Not that his stomach could make noises anymore, seeing as how he was dead.

With the food flying to and throw, nothing suited Alfred's taste. Had Arthur gone mad by not restocking the snacks! No chips, no burgers, no cereal, nothing! It was an outrage to the blonde. Huffing like a small child, he shut the door behind him. Seeming to make enough noise to stir the bear, Arthur, from his not to restful sleep.

'An intruder?' Thought the British man to himself as he gently arose from his bed, turning the corner of his room. Red eyes still adjusting to the light of day.

**_A brief encounter, could change everything once more. But would it happen?_**

Still fiddling away in the kitchen, the American settled upon just a small cup of tea. Allowing it to brew away as he waited patiently. Unaware of his lover even hearing him. An of course like old times, he too ended up falling back into routine. A smile crossing over those cold lips in remembering the times he had caught Arthur doing this.

_Old memories still holding the spark he once knew at the time._

Times when he had snuck himself into the kitchen, wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist. The laughs he was able to draw from the small man's frame by tickling him. Wiping frosting form a cinnamon roll onto his lips and kissing it off the other. The little things they both cherished so much.

As at last the coffee came to a halt, Arthur entered the door behind Alfred. Looking around and happening to the the first to speak. "Bloody hell.." He said aloud, looking between the kettle and around the rest of the room. "Who's there! Show yourself coward!" Cried he, holding nothing but a small bat in his hand for protection.

Now, it was this that gave Alfred a rather interesting idea. Pale lips curled up into a smile at the thought. If physical contact and him speaking weren't enough to make Arthur believe he was there, he was going to have to resort to other means.

While the other choose to 'explain' why there was a steeping pot of tea in his kitchen, along with a bit of a mess, the ghost man was already back into the hall. Writing down on a sticky note a few choice words. Things he thought might spark the notion in him.

"There's no way Artie can deny this!" Said he aloud, before placing the note on the door leading into the hall. Hoping that Arthur would indeed see and maybe, sense he was there.  
However, things don't always go according to plan.

With a quick turn of his head, the Brit concluded nothing was in the room. Once the tea was done steeping, he took it off the stove. Quickly pouring himself a cup only to find, what seemed to be a note.

Looking over the yellow slip of paper, he continued to think to himself just how he even forgot to notice it. "Must be from how bloody early it is." Which of course could be understood, after what he had been through even the simplest of tasks could seem horrendously draining.

The colour slipped from his face once he glanced over the words. Each letter coming to form something only he and his past love spoke. However could someone know this? Or even so write it, in handwriting he knew too well.

_Forever and always, babe._

"How, this is impossible." Said the man aloud, dropping the note in the floor. Green eyes glancing around the room one last time in a heated battle over emotions. Should he just shrug it off? Should he worry for his sanity? Should he believe what he was seeing?

_Could this merely be a dream, something his grieving mind made up in order to process Alfred's death._

During this little battle his love was having, the young ghost seemed to be doing a good job with rejoicing. He certain that this quick act had somehow changed Arthur, allowing him to acknowledge that his lost love was here. Waiting, to say his last goodbye.

Just as he was about to do a small happy dance in glee, the front door opened. Against all odds Francis had somehow entered the humble flat. A concerned look in his eyes.

"You... bloody frog! Why would you do this to me!" Cried out a hurt Arthur, growling at him with an angry tone. "You assault me yesterday with your words, an now.. you break into our- my home."  
A heart broken Alfred stood beside him, blue eyes looking between both Arthur and the new intruder. His entire plan, backfired. All the joy in his body seeming to seep through the cracks, like a broken bottle. Tears softly falling from those pale cheeks, helping to slide the framed glasses down the bridge of his nose.

If Arthur refused to acknowledge him now, what made him think he ever would? An why, why would his love not remember all those times he and only he had repeated that phrase. Surely he would remember it, and understand. Was he too wrapped up in this simple words to believe in the unbelievable.

Unknowing to Alfred, there was a pair of eyes watching him with interest. The green ones he had remembered and cherished.

**_His plan, had worked._**


	6. Chapter 5: Doubts Of The Heart

**Chapter 5: Doubts Of The Heart**

Francis was the first to break the silence, looking between Arthur and whatever he was watching. "Mon ami! What are you staring at? There is nothing there." Confusion, the only thing that seemed to describe him at this point.

The French man couldn't possibly wrap his mind around this strange behavior. Coming a bit closer to the other, in hope of comforting this lost soul. He was received with little love, a hand coming out to push him away.

Angry green eyes met his, although his blue orbs showed nothing but affection and concern to him. "Arthur?" Chapped lips repeated the words again, hands staying still at his sides.

_"Get out..." _

Bitterness tinted his voice, the blonde moving to the side. "I'll say it one more bloody time damn it." As much as he wanted to believe it was crazy, that he didn't see his beloved Alfred. He couldn't doubt the feelings anymore. Or maybe, loosing the one he cared most about had driven him into insanity?

But what did it matter, if he was able to him if even for one final moment. He would take the chance. Living like this, wasn't it insanity enough for him.

"Get out of my house Francis. Don't come back.. until I ask you to." It was a matter of making him understand what exactly Arthur was wanting. Silence, to be alone, all of that rolled up into one nice little package. Couldn't the Frenchman just understand that for one moment? Why all of a sudden was he being nice to Arthur, seeing him as often as possible, treating him differently then before? No , he didn't care. All the Brit wanted was for the pain to stop.

The pain which illuminated within those pooling blue orbs, was unamountable. Emotions which Francis had kept hidden for the longest time, seeping out as soft tears. Being the gentleman he was, he used the backside of his shirt sleeve. Wiping the salty tears away and nodding to the other.

There was nothing more he could say. It that was what Arthur wished, he would do it. "Oui, if that is what you would like. " Crying covered up the soft footsteps of the other leaving, the French speaker allowing his own tears to fall. Letting the damn burst in a sea of both anger and sadness.

Guilt had already overtaken him from what he had done earlier, from what he ha put Arthur through when that fateful day occurred. As it was his car, which collided with Alfred's. He could never forgive himself for it, even if it truly wasn't his fault. Merely that of another individuals for driving drunk.

How horrid it was to look into the eyes of someone you love, an be unable to tell them that it was you who killed their lover? Francis might have been a stubborn individual at times, but he wasn't heartless.

As the wind around his tumbling mind blew, announcing the return of the storm. The Frenchman's own mind was swirling with thoughts. His feelings for Arthur, how exactly he could even help him, and how he himself could find redemption along with forgiveness in the whole process.

His heavy jacket provided little protection from his crumbling condition on that cold walk home. If the bitter whipping wind didn't freeze him to death. The pain lodged in his chest, killing him with ever beat and thought of Arthur, would.

Back at the home, away from this internal storm, was Arthur. Green eyes frantically looked around the room. Standing from his position, in hopes he could see him. Praying to himself that he really wasn't crazy, that maybe for once God hadn't played a cruel trick on him.

"Alfred?" He called softly at first, an when he heard no response he deepened his tone. More tears on the verge of falling once more, regardless of how tired he was of crying. All he wanted was to see his lover again. "Alfred you bloody git answer me!" Cried out the man into the small space.

There was no sign of him, nothing but the sound of Arthur's own breathing and the soft patter of rain falling against the roof of the building. Wind howling in the distance meaning nothing to the British man.

When his name was called out, Alfred turned. Peeking his head out of the hallway and finding Arthur. The disheveled hair on the back of his head was seen, eyes looking in the opposite direction from the ghost. His heart pounding loud enough to be heard across the room.

Ghostly footsteps walked across the room,heightening Arthur's senses. No, it couldn't be. Could it? Had he truly not been crazy? Afraid to turn around, in fear what he might or might not see. Arthur waited. Strong arms wrapping their way around his tiny waist. His own fingers brushing over them.

Although they were a bit paler then he had remembered, they were still Alfred's. A head rested against his shoulder. The feeling of tears falling from the others eyes, enough to bring himself to weep with joy.

"It's me Artie... I'm back. For now." Hummed Alfred, allowing the other to turn around on his own time. He wouldn't force him into anything, he had time now. Not much, but enough to tell Arthur everything that needed to be told.

The slow and painful process began, Arthur unsure if he should turn around. Would he accept the sight he would see? Or would he be taken back with shock and fear? Either way, he knew the voice speaking to him was Alfred's. Regardless of how he looked in this form, it was still the man he loved. His mouth was dry, unable to say anything. But, slowly he turned around. Feet making a small creek in the floor boards.

There, before him like always, was his loving Alfred. Green eyes searched up and down the pale figure, finding he was wearing the exact suit he died in. Even down to the small flower in his breast pocket.

Chapped lips parted, yet no sound came from them. He was much too tired from crying to do anymore, however in Arthur's mind he was sobbing like never before. A hologram, that's what Alfred looked like to him. Something semi translucent, but in the shape of his lover.

With gentle fingers he reached up. Touching his lovers cold face with a loving stroke to his cheek. He could feel him, hear him, truely it was Alfred. Not in the flesh of course... but it was his Alfred.

The blonde American nuzzling into the touch, kissing the tips of Alfred's fingers with such love. His own ghostly blue eyes gaining a few tears from the contact. "You, not gonna talk to me?" Asked the blonde with a small somber chuckle.

Words, they were not coming to Arthur at this moment. Nothing seemed to be coming to him other then the overwhelming urge to melt into the others embrace. He wanted to go with him, if this truly was the last time he would see Alfred again.

A hoarse voice at last spoke, most likely softened from the mass amounts of screaming he had done since Alfred's death. "I-It is you." At the very end of those words, he cracked. Two small tears gliding their way down his cheeks. The final two tears he had left in him to cry.

Letting go of the American's cheek, his fingers found another object to grip onto. Before he was even able to speak, Arthur threw himself onto his jacket. Fingers digging into the material, nose pressed against his chest in a loving manor. Words of anger being spoken to him in a heart broken tone. "You bloody git."

He went to say something, wanting nothing more then to retaliate against Arthur's harsh words. However it hit him, this was the man he loved. Someone who had gone through hell since his passing, battling the sea of emotions that came with it. An although he had gone through the same thing, yelling would do nothing in this case.

Possibly only encourage this behavior. Sighing sadly, Alfred looked down at the other. Fingers softly caressed Arthur's back, hoping to calm his love in some form enough to talk to him.

Just as he was about to say something of support, the Brit looked up at him. Those sad green eyes hitting his blue with nothing more then sorrow. "I suppose, you are here to say goodbye?" Truly none of them wanted for it to be goodbye. Not now, or ever.

In that moment, Alfred had his own regrets. The love shown within those eyes still as strong as the day he left this world. Could he truly just say goodbye to that? Everything he had worked for. Leave this world and Arthur alone until he too would leave it hopefully many years from now.

"No..." Whispered the American, shaking his head gently to the other. "I-I can't say goodbye...I just can't Artie."

**_A momentary goodbye, would be more then seventy years from now if best. Although the wait wouldn't kill him, the heartbreak surely would take its tole. _**


End file.
